Unfairness of Life
by Vampykitty-kun
Summary: "She was perfect. I'm going to marry her."


**(212): **

She throws back shots like they are NO-THING. I swear, she goes through like five straight tequila shots, does a jello shot, chases with half a hot dog, has a rum and coke, and then takes her shirt off and makes an impromptu bandage out of it for fuckin' Tim who cut himself on the flagpole. I'm going to marry her.

"So I've come to the conclusion that I have an unrealistic love crush on your modern day Batgirl." Jason sighed and dangled his legs off the fire escape, earning a worried look from Dick.

"…what?"

"Unrealistic in the fact that I'm very _technically_ a criminal, wanted for _several_ murders, and only get a free pass once a week because there's no escaping the fact that we're _bros_." He huffs, lifting the bottle in one hand to his lips and taking a large swig. "And that really sucks because she's amazing."

"And I'm letting you know right now that you've most definitely had enough to drink and will not be driving your bike home…" Dick groaned, and rubbed at a temple, because the last thing he would have ever agreed to was babysitting a drunk and mopey Red Hood, yet here he was.

Bros indeed…

"Psh… I'm not stupid Dickiebird. Walking. _Seriously_." He snorted, rolling his eyes. "But in the mean time you have to humor me in my angst. It's Tuesday. You're required to be nice to me on Tuesdays, and forgo the zip ties and handcuffs… unless you're _game_ for handcuffs?" Jason smirked, wagging his brows.

Dick let out a pained whine.

"Oh god, Jason… _no_." He muttered. "Seriously, why do you have to be like this? Can't we just have a normal night?"

"Damn, can't blame a guy for trying, sheesh…" He sighed, crossing his arms behind his head. "And no, we _cannot_ have a normal night, because I'm grieving over the unfairness of life."

Dick narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

"You just have an unnatural fondness for Bat-cowls. It's the pointy ears Jason. This has nothing to do with Steph. Remember your little crush on Babs? Bruce? Heck, you just made lewd suggestions to me, and what am I wearing? It's the ears Jason. And the cape. You have a thing."

"Wrong! Well, _mostly_." He huffed, waving a gloved hand. "You just don't understand. You weren't at the weird random sleepover last week. You don't _know_."

And Dick was certain things were only going to get worse.

"…_sleepover_?"

"Mmmhmm. Not sure whose idea it was, why they thought it would be smart, nor who supplied the alcohol for a dozen underage heroes, but it was great. I wasn't formally invited, but when it became apparent that there was a gathering happening, and it happened to be my freebie night, I wasn't going to miss that chaos for nothin'."

Dick paled and groaned.

"That was the night I was stuck at the computer. They do this on purpose. So they can make bad decisions in peace…" he muttered.

"Pretty much. For the guy who partied the most as a teen you're a total buzz kill in recent years. Whatever, back to my moping. She was perfect Dick. _Perfect_. Bossing everyone around, looks like she's been taking workout tips from Donna, no filter on her mouth, and damn could she hold her liquor." He sighed fondly, propping his cheek up with a hand. "She throws back shots like they're nothing. I swear, she went through like… _five_ shots of straight up tequila, did a jello shot off of Cass' navel, chased with half a chili dog- a _chili dog_! Had a rum and coke, and then- THEN ripped her shirt off with no hesitation and made an impromptu bandage out of it for fuckin' Tim, who cut himself on the flagpole, and proceeded to strut around proudly in her eggplant sports bra like a Viking goddess. I'm going to marry her."

"I…" and Dick honestly was not sure how to process all of that info. "_Wait_- hold up! Tim told me he was injured by Damian pushing him through a glass table. And Damian admitted it! I punished him!"

Jason cackled and slung an arm around Dick's shoulders.

"That's because there are worse things he could admit to and he knows Tim's got the _proof_ to back him up should he choose to voice sad things. Admitting to that pulled both their asses out of the fire- and I'm no rat. You can figure _all_ their dirty little secrets out on your own like a proper Bat." He grinned. "But anyway, what do you think the chances are of her saying yes to a couple's patrol and criminal beatdown three to four nights a month, with chili dogs and greasy fries for dinner, moonlit rooftop cuddles, ending in some awesome hair pulling and me showing off my talented tongue…"

"I think I need brain bleach."

"I think I need to be on my knees with her incredible thighs wrapped around my shoulders."

Dick was sure that no one could blame him for knocking the man out after that, throwing him over his shoulder, and depositing him on the mattress in one of his more easily accessible safe houses.

Nor could he be criticized for then promptly approaching Steph and forewarning her about Jason, regardless of the possibility that he had been drunk joking him simply for amusement, and that fact that Steph could most definitely take care of herself.

And surely, no one could blame him for running off to Babs for comfort when Steph grinned mischievously and stated that she was looking forward to any attempts, and he could not be sure if she meant she was all for it or if she would enjoy hurting him, nor if she was being serious or playing with him.

Suddenly he had newfound respect for Bruce and his handling of all the teenagers over the years, himself included.


End file.
